The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of metal and dust from the week-long cleanup. The streets surrounding the mansion, once crawling with the undead, now lay eerily quiet. Burned-out vehicles were piled neatly on the corners, zombie corpses had been burned in ditches, and barricades were stacked high at the main roads.
It had taken every ounce of effort from Alvin's group, day and night patrols, coordinated attacks, and sleepless evenings of watch duty, but finally, their section of the neighborhood was clean.
And yet, Alvin wasn't satisfied.
He stood on the mansion's terrace, gazing at the horizon with narrowed eyes. The faint moans of distant zombies still echoed through the city ruins. He knew it was only a matter of time before more came wandering into their reclaimed area.
They needed protection, not temporary fences or makeshift barricades but a wall.
So Alvin decided to have a small meeting and discuss the issue with everyone.
